The Darkspawn Commander
by Robert DeWarren
Summary: After the Warden Commander sides with the Architect to fight the Mother, the First Warden decides he is a traitor.Seeking shelter with his new allies, everything changes when a young woman is captured by his darkspawn. Surana/Morrigan Surana-OC friendship
1. Chapter 1

**Ill be using the same name for my Warden as my other story, but they are not the same person.**

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

_This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be_… Over and over Helen repeated her mantra, as the darkspawn dragged her away from the camp. She began to sob quietly as the Hurlocks holding her arms spoke in the guttural tongue the creatures used.

The day had started like any other, riding in the wagon that was filled with Orleasian tea leaves to be taken to Denerim to sell. About halfway through the trip, while in some woods that Helen would have gladly avoided if there were any other way, things had taken a decided turn for the worse.

The man-at-arms to her left was the first to go. The Genlock arrow went straight through his neck, and it wasn't until she felt the man slump against her that she even knew anything was wrong. Suddenly the air was filled with the unholy cries that preceded Shrieks, and sure enough within moments the monsters were crawling up her wagon, clawing at the other soldier in the back of the wagon. The monsters had grabbed her then, pulling her out of the drivers seat before she could even bring the knife hidden in her dress to bear.

Helen brought sharply back to the present when the cool grass that was sliding beneath her turned to stone, and the sunlight sky was blocked out by rock above. It took her a moment in her disoriented state to realize that she had been dragged into a cave. An indeterminate amount of time later, the dragging finally stopped, as she was thrown in a cell.

Crawling up onto her knees, she watched through the bars as a one-eyed Hurlock, this one in colored chainmail instead of the yellow plate other darkspawn wore, did something she though was impossible: it talked.

"What should we be doing with the human girl?" It took Helen a moment to realize it wasn't asking her, but merely thinking aloud. "Should we be making it a broodmother?" Any color whatsoever left in Helen's face drained at that. She had heard tales of such things, but never put much stock into any of them, thinking they were nonsense made to scare children and milkmaids.

"No, Halfsight" Came another raspy voice, the tone which Helen now associated with darkspawn. "The Commander has forbade the making of Broodmothers, and he was appointed by the Architect to be leading us." As it approached closer, it was easy to make out the fact that this one too wore the chainmail

"I was not speaking to you Messenger." Halfsight roared, apparently angered by the intrusion of this other darkspawn in his fun. "I am Jailer! I am deciding what to do with prisoners!"

"If Commander finds out you are disobeying him, you will be paying with your life.!" Messenger yelled back.

"And who would be telling him? You, Messenger? You were always being a faithful pet to him." The one-eyed darkspawn sneered. It only took a moment, but in a flash the Messenger had a mace and shield out while Halfsight had drawn his axe.

"I am loyal to the Architect, and to the Commander! Know who you are following Halfsight!" Both darkspawn stared at each other, neither one willing to let up. The conflict only came to an end with the slamming of a door further down the hallway. Any hostility shown between the two seemed to evaporate as they stood at attention for the coming of, what Helen supposed was, their leader. Preparing herself for the largest, most intimidating darkspawn she had seen yet, she was floored when and elf walked up to her cage.

Quirking his head to the side slightly, he glanced her over. "May I ask why there is a young woman in my jail?" He asked politely, turning toward the two darkspawn.

"The un-learned found her. She was riding our roads." Halfsight said, glaring at the girl as if she had made some great personal insult towards him.

"They are not being our roads!" Messenger yelled at Halfsight "We invade no longer! We are being at peace, Halfsight!"

The elf interrupted before another argument could flare up. " She is not armed, or atleast not openly so. And I can handle anyone using holdout weapons with little effort. I sense no taint in her, so she is obviously not a Warden, just someone unlucky enough to need to use the road near our home." He seemed to think something over for a moment. "Let her out, I would wish to speak with her."

"But Commander, she might-" Halfsight was silence by a glare from the elf, before relenting to open the gate.

Stepping inside, he offered a hand to the bedraggled girl, who shied away at first, then accepted. Hauling her gently to her feet, the gave a polite bow. "Greeting, my name is Arabus, former Grey Warden, former Grey Warden Commander, former Royal Advisor, slayer of the Archdemon, Bloodmage, and current second-in-command of all Enlightened darkspawn, working under the supervision of the Architect."

Helen gaped at the man as he rattled off his titles. Ex-Grey Warden? How does one become an _ex-_Warden aside from high treason…. Helens eyes shot open as she stumbled backwards. "Your…you're the Warden who didn't kill the darkspawn! The one who started fighting _for _them!"

"I'm afraid, good lady, that your are only partially correct. I did infact, kill a great many darkspawn. It is just that one particular group, this one, wanted peace. After all of the fighting, I was more than happy to give it to them. But enough of this, I am sure you are incredibly tired. We can finish this discussion when you are rested up. Messenger," The darkspawn came speedily to their side, "Make sure that miss…"

"Helen" The girl said, as she brushed the now dirt encrusted blond hair out of her face.

"Make sure that miss Helen will be comfortable in the guest room. I would be extremely grateful." Nodding, Messenger ran off. "For obvious reasons, I do not get many guests, so I'm afraid the room might have fallen into a state of disrepair." The elf explained. As they reached a offshoot room, Arabus opened the door. Inside was a cave with a natural hot spring in the center. "I'm sure that you would prefer to get clean. I will have someone set some clothes and a towel out for you. There will be someone outside the door. When you are finished and wish to retire for today, you may speak with him, and he will bring it to my attention."

She watched as he walked off, the cave-like hallway turning into an underground building past the doorway he just exited through, complete with vaulted ceiling and tiled floors. After checking all nooks and crannies for darkspawn. She stripped down and sat in the water. Despite her distrust for the situation, she simply could not refuse a bath.

Standing up she turned to see a pile of robes and a towel on the ground. The fact that the darkspawn had brought her clothes was surprising enough, but what made her stomach clench was something completely different: she had not heard them. She had had her head above water the entire time, and not once did she even suspect of something else being in the room with her. Had they wanted to harm her… Snapping out of her reverie, she marched to the door and pulled it open with what she hoped was authority. The chainmailed darkspawn glanced at her and asked if she was ready for sleep. When she nodded, He told her to wait and went in search of his Commander.

When the elf returned, he smiled at her. "Excellent to se you feeling better, miss Helen. I take it you are quite tired?" After once again nodding, she was led to a rather spacious room in the building portion of the cave.

As she walked in the doorway, she suddenly spun around to face him. "Why are you being so kind to me? I have no money, and nothing to barter with. And I will _not _be a bed warmer for you."

After all the things that had been said and done, this got a reaction from the commander. "Madam, I am a gentleman. And whether it is so uncivilized where you come from that you expect these things, or that you suspect simply because I am an outlaw that I have no morals, I will not tolerate such slanders on my honor." He stated, before closing the door firmly in her face. Confusion running wild in her head, Helen stumbled to the bed, and was asleep before she hit the covers.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

**Longest single chapter I've ever written! **


	2. Chapter 2

Helen was only sure of two things; first was that she was not in her home, lying comfortably on the spotted yellow quilt her mother had made her. Second, something yesterday had gone horribly wrong. What it was that had been so disastrous simply eluded her sleep-addled mind.

Heaving herself into a sitting position, the young woman looked around to see the room she was in. It seemed to be large and comfortable, with plush carpeting and abundant stuffed chairs, but the odd thing was there was no windows whatsoever. It was almost like she was underground…

And then it hit her. The darkspawn attack, being dragged into the cave by Hurlocks, the Messenger and Halfsight arguing over her fate, the mysterious elf who commanded them…

She had to leave. That's all there was to it. She must find her way out of this cave and run until she found civilization of some kind where she could report this nest and have it wiped of the face of Fereldan.

Standing up, she marched to the door and opened it as quietly as possible. Taking about two steps down the carpeted hallway, she nearly had a heart attack when the Messenger stepped out of a shadowed doorway. "The Commander was wishing me to tell you that if you are to be escaping, you are to need better clothes than a nightgown." It said, with the oddest look on it's face. Finally she placed it: amusement. It was the first time she had seen anything but rage and hate on the face of a darkspawn (not that she had seen many, mind you, but living through a Blight does give opportunities.)

Storming back inside the room, Helen grabbed a set of robes that were a little more revealing than what she was used to, but still perfectly proper. Stepping out of the doorway, she had the savage urge to punch the first thing she saw. After coming face to face with a passing Hurlock in the hallway, she put that urge off for a while. Messenger was still there and informed her that the Commander would be there soon.

Echoing footsteps heralded the approach of her captor-and-or-host. The little annoyance he had shown last night seemed to be gown as he greeted her with surprisingly healthy teeth. "Ah, wonderful to see you, miss Helen. I see that the robes fit you?"

"Yes they do, although the design seems a bit old fashioned. Not that I'm not grateful." She hastily amended, hoping she hadn't offended the leader of the savage hoard of monsters.

"I imagine it would be. I have very little use for women's robes, you see." The amused tilt to he smile seemed totally out of place on the face of the man standing beside a darkspawn. "Those were picked out several years ago by a friend of mine who insisted I have women's robes in my home incase I ever, er, how did she put it? Oh yes," At this point the cleared his throat and donned a rather poor impression of an Orlesian accent, "_entertained a lady-friend at my humble home,"_

Several things ran through the mind of the human as she listened to that statement. Before she had realized it, she had blurted out possibly the rudest thing she had ever said "You had friends?" She instantly covered her mouth as the realization of her comment hit her, but Arabus merely laughed.

"Indeed I did, And I still do. Messenger here is a wonderful friend, and even the Architect is considered a friend. Admittedly, I had a larger collection of associates once, but I had to stop staying in touch with them, for my sake as well as theirs." A bittersweet smile came over his face as he remembered. "The dress you now wear comes from an Orlesian bard-turned-chantry lay sister. She made sure I was always in fashion though, despite my vehement protests." He began to laugh at a memory of the fashionably friend he once had. "She once bought me a hat, which I swear had more feathers on it than most birds!"

Helen was a bit uncomfortable. Until now, things were simple. This man was evil, and she was good. But her ideas had hit a snag: evil people don't have _friends_.

"Leliana always was a bit… promiscuous and thought that if everyone else was, the world would be a much more fun place, ergo, her making sure I'm prepared if I ever had a 'lady friend' over." Arabus glanced at her for a moment, and then chuckled. " I doubt she thought that they would be put to use clothing a guest, instead of a… what did you refer to them as yesterday? Ah yes, 'bed warmers'"

Helen flushed crimson at the reminder of the confrontation they had had last night, with her definitely coming off the worse for it. "You speak as if you were very fond of her." The human pried, attempting to find something she might could use if it came to that.

Gesturing for her to follow, they began off down the hall, with Messenger falling in behind them. "As I said, she was a good friend. And I do know you are wondering, so I will alleviate your suspicions: no we did not share a bed."

Helen once again blushed, but could not deny that she had wondered. "And did you have any other friends?"

"Of course!" He said jovially. "There was Leliana, as I've said, and Sten, and Alistair, and Ogren, and Anders, and Wynne, and Zevran, and Shale, and my dog Chase, and Sigrun, and Nathaniel, and Justice and Velanna, and Mor-" He seemed to get chocked a bit, and coughed to clear his throat. "They were all good friends." He said, a bit strained.

Helen though, was not known for being slow witted. "Who's 'Mor-'" she questioned, picking some imaginary lint off her sleeve.

Arabus suddenly round on her. "I have given you freedom most would not show their captives." He said in a dangerous whisper "I will answer almost any question you can come up with, and do so gladly, but there are a few that are off limits to you, and everyone else. Pry too far into that _particular_ name, you will likely find your lifespan shortened dramatically."

The young woman was shocked at the sudden abruptness with which he spoke. Becoming incredibly quiet, she followed the Commander as he attempted to recompose himself. Walking into the antechamber, she was amazed. Last night she had been too tired to realize anything but now she saw it in all it's glory. All along the wall, paintings hung, each atleast five foot across, and seven tall. All of them depicted a person in the midst of heroics, and each with a name engraved on the frame. She recognized the names from the list she had managed to get out of the elf earlier, but she could not find one that began with 'Mor'

She saw what was undoubtedly a qunarie wielding the single largest sword she had ever seen. He swung the blade, with a look of righteous fury on his face, as the shadowy opponents fled. _Sten_

Next was a dwarf with a red beard that seemed to go all the way to his waist. Holding his axe in one hand, and what appeared to be a flask in the other, he stood tall (relatively) on a mound of enemy corpses. _Oghren_

A human was next, wearing gleaming armor he bashed his shield against a charging opponent, driving the blade in his other hand into another. _Alistair _

A mabari war hound was shown in this picture, leaping off a ledge into a group of cowering soldiers. _Chase_

A red haired woman seemed to be playing the lute to the soldiers surrounding her, but Helens eyes saw the dagger slipping into her hand. _Leliana_

A golem stood laughing in this portrait, as arrows and thrown spears broke and bounced off it's skin. _Shale_

An older woman was the focal point of this one, as her glowing hands hovered above a group of badly wounded people. The faces of the men were painted into expressions of relief and tranquility. _Wynne_

At first glance this painting seemed to be about one of the blurry-faced soldiers, as he stood at attention in the center of the portrait. On second look though, it was hard to miss the darkened figure behind him, slipping a knife into his ribs. _Zevran_

As the soldiers surround the blond-haired man in the center, they seemed to fall back as a ring of fire emanated from him _Anders_

A rather unwell and sick looking man stood side by side what she recognized from books as a good fade spirit, although the artist had painted them to show them in an equally heroic pose. _Justice_

Waves of soldiers seem to crash against a wall, as one man stood on top, face set, as he rained arrows down upon the attackers. _Nathaniel_

A dwarven woman stood in a cave, apparently laughing at the darkness and shadows that seemed to pervade everywhere her torch couldn't reach, daring them to fight her. _Sigrun_

And elven woman stood in the forest, one hand pointed forward as the trees themselves seemed to twist to serve and protect her. _Velanna_

"So," Arabus asked from his seat, "do you believe that I had friends now?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I hope you like the paintings of all of the companions, they were kinda fun to write.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the long gap in updates!**

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Arabus smiled as his eyes swerved from painting to painting, lost in memories. "All such good people, never deserved the life that fate gave them." He stood, and walked to the painting marked "Leliana". Staring up at it, Arabus continued "She was betrayed by her lover, another Orlesian bard. She was nearly killed, and barely escaped from the trap." Next he walked to the painting of the dwarven man. "He gave himself to his city, willing to fight, kill, and die for it. They labeled him as a drunken old has-been, and wouldn't give him the time of day, even before that unfortunate duel." He began toward another painting, but was stopped as a darkspawn rushed into the room.

Darting up to the elf, it said something in the rasping, guttural language the common darkspawn used. Nodding, Arabus turned to the human. "Miss Helen, I'm afraid plans must be changed. I was going to give you the grand tour, but events have transpired against me, so it seems. You are still more than welcome to explore yourself, although there will be restrictions, you understand. First, no leaving the building section of the cave. Second, no entering restricted areas. Aside from the obvious ones, like the armory, the guards will let you know should you attempt to unwittingly enter one. Aside from that, enjoy yourself." With a swift nod of his head, the Commander was gone, with Messenger quick-stepping to keep up with his hurried leader.

Helen suddenly realized that she was now alone in a darkspawn fortress. As panic knotted in her stomach, she began to walk. It was what her mother had always said she should do: work out all nervousness. So she walked, and as the dread settled in her, she realized that she had a lot of walking to do.

Passing doors, occasionally peeking in, and guards, who left her alone, she continued on. She had passed several storage rooms, a barracks, and, judging from the smells, a kitchen. What exactly was cooked in a darkspawn kitchen she didn't care to know.

It wasn't until she tried to walk through a set of doors that she hit trouble. As soon as her hand touched the handle, one of the chainmailed darkspawn seemed to materialize out of the shadows to her left. "This is where the Commander is living. Noone is allowed to be entering." When she backed off, it nodded and continued walking down the hall, apparently doing patrols.

But this opportunity was simply to good to pass. Performing a trick she had done many times as a little girl, she walked heavily down the hall, then tiptoed back to the door. Easing the handle open, she feared a creak that never came. Obviously these doors were well cared for.

Stepping inside, she eased the door shut behind her, making sure to not let it slam. Turning she surveyed the room for the first time. It was a bit bigger than her bedroom/prison, and with a definitely eye to detail. All of it was made to be comfortable, but not grandiose. It was all obviously expensive, but for the cost of quality, not poshness. There was a bed, with a nightstand beside it. A wringing desk was pushed up against the wall, with a cushioned chair tucked neatly next to it. The wardrobe that stood elegantly in the corner was slightly open to reveal the elf's clothes, which once again spoke of great quality. Opening the wardrobe farther, Helen saw a regular amount of clothes, but an absurd number of jackets and coats. Shaking her head at her strange host, she continued her scrutinizations. Another door lead to, from what she could hear, a spring similar to the one she had bathed in yesterday.

Abandoning her observations she began to think. She needed something-_anything_- that could give her an edge over the elf who, at the moment, held all the cards. Walking over to the desk, she opened several of the drawers to find nothing but writing utensils, paper, loose odds and ends. About ready to give up, she remembered something her sister, a maid to one of the Arls, had told her about. Running her hand underneath the desk's edge until she felt the latch that signaled the secret compartment.

Opening it up, pulled out the tray that swung down on a pendulum arm. Inside was a number of letters, small drawings, and a notebook. Pulling out the letters, she skimmed over them, and noted the names. Most were either to or from the people he had listed as friends, and one from Queen Anora herself! None of them had any immediately important information, so she promised herself that she would look over them in a minute. Moving on to the notebook, she pulled it out and opened it.

Inside was what appeared to be a search log. It had names of places and the number of troops-_darkspawn_ she corrected herself, _not troops_- that were sent there. A map of Fereldan was pinned to one of the pages, with red X's scratched over various places, with jot noted down beside them. _Said she went north. Hadn't seen her-lying? Village burned to the ground-to dramatic, not her. Said animals with yellow eyes had been seen around town-possible lead. _As Helen read all of the notes, she came to a conclusion: Arabus was looking for someone. And she didn't know who this woman was, what she had done to warrant the Commanders attention, or where she was, but Helen felt truly and deeply sorry for her. Flipping through the book, she came across different notes, all apparently about this one person. Finally she came to a page that showed a map of Orlais. Written on top was a note that read _Not in Fereldan, will have Leliana look in Orlais. Maybe in Val Royeaux-Morrigan is drawn to power._ Underneath was a drawn portrait of a woman with pitch black hair and pale skin, her clothes barely affording modesty. The most striking thing though, was the piercing yellow eyes.

And so now Helen had a name. Morrigan. Whatever she had done to warrant the attention of Arabus, she wasn't sure if it had been worth it. After all, what could be so horrible that he would track her all the way to Val Royeaux?

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Kinda a short chapter, but a needed one nonetheless. I hope you like it, please R&R!


	4. Chapter 4

**Alright, this story hasn't been updated in AGES and I apologize, but if anyone is still interested, here's the next chapter.**

**/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\**

Helen placed the notebook back where she found it, giving a dainty cough as she took out a handful of the letters at random. The first was a large envelope that, from what she could make of the broken seal, was sent from the Orlesian royal court. Thinking back to what was in the notebook, she opened the letter, hastily scanning the loopy penmanship.

The letter appeared to be from the same woman Arabus was sending to search Val Royeaux, someone named Leliana. It looked to be a status report on her search, going on to say that nothing of import had turned up, except apparently the woman had found a _gorgeous _pair of shoes- Helen had no real idea how that could be related

Picking up the next letter, she started to open it before voices from the hallway caused her heart to skip a beat. Glancing around franticly for a hiding spot, she decided on the wardrobe. Diving in between a beige pair of pants and a bright red jacket, she closed the door, leaving a slight crack to see through.

Arabus and a darkspawn- who she was relatively sure was Messenger- stepped in, causing Helen to suddenly be able to make out their words. "-could just be coincidence, of course, but it seems highly unlikely. If nothing else, it does warrant further investigation."

Helen saw messenger nod while Arabus started pacing. "Of course Commander, shall I be sending the unlearned to watch the Grey Wardens?" The elf shook his head and looked thoughtful.

"No," he replied, "The Wardens would just sense them, causing the endeavor to be more counterproductive than anything. We need to find a way to observe them without-" The elf had stopped and was staring at his desk. Helen stretched her neck to find what was of interest to the elf, only to stop when she realized the notebook was still in the open. Arabus grabbed the edge of the desk for stability and leaned down to see the pendulum arm tray swung down.

Turning from the desk, the ex-warden began stalking around the room, while Messenger followed his movements curiously. The darkspawn started to ask a question, but was shushed by his leader. Helen held her breath as the elf walked past her wardrobe. Suppressing the tickling in her throat heralding a cough, she almost missed the small thump of a rat jumping from his perch and landing on the floor that caused Messenger to jump, but only made the elf spin in place and point his finger at the creature. It had a moment to contemplate the sudden bright light before the bolt of lighting hit it.

Realizing that rat could have easily been her, the young woman in hiding in the wardrobe did her best not to give in to her body's rather persistent demand to be unburden itself with her breakfast. At Messenger's questioning look, Arabus shrugged. Grabbing the rat with a handkerchief and setting it in a chamber pot to be picked up, he said "Sorry, friend. I suppose the Wardens showing up has me a bit paranoid." Walking back to the desk and setting everything back in it's place, he continued, "Although I _was _quite certain I had closed this. I'll come up with a solution for the wardens momentarily. For now, let us go find something to eat. I don't suppose they will allow us an early supper, do you?"

The talking faded as the pair got farther and farther away from the room, but Helen remained frozen. There was no way she would have survived that bolt had she sneezed, or coughed, or any number of things to startle her captor before that rat did. She had to get out of here and back to civilization, but how? Even if she managed to sneak past the army of darkspawn, they would be on her in a moment, and she was certain Arabus' leniency would not extend that far.

Then the idea struck her. They had just been talking about Grey Wardens! If she could make it to them, they could protect her!

With a new hope, Helen managed to get herself out of the room without an incident, being careful to pass as full of the chainmailed darkspawn as possible on her way back lest they report to their commander and he make the connection of where she was coming from.

Barring any major setbacks, she could begin preparation to leave tomorrow.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

As it would turn out, the small cough she had turned into a major setback. She developed a fever overnight. With her sore throat preventing her from calling anyone in her room, she was only discovered when Messenger came in after she did not answer his knock. Finding her this way he quickly fetched his commander who quickly began making a health potion for the sick girl. After drinking the vile tasting stuff she gave him a weak grin. "I didn't know you were a healer."

After deciphering the croak that passed for her voice, the elf smiled at her. "Not much of one. I have the basic knowledge to make a few poultices and potions but most of my magical talent is far better suited to hurting people instead of healing them."

"Thank you." She managed before closing her eyes. She felt the elf lay a hand on her forehead, before he swore quietly. She felt him raise of the bed before calling quietly to Messenger.

"I'm not able to heal her. If left like this, she will die within the week. We need someone better suited for this." Helen knew she should be more worried by that statement, but at the moment her exhausted mind simply didn't care. "Messenger, go to Amaranthine. Tell Wynne she's needed. I will stay here and do my best to keep her comfortable, although I do urge you to make haste. I am a Blood Mage, not a Spirit Healer."


End file.
